Aren't they adorable??

Taken from behind an auto rickshaw :)

Traffic Woes (no more!)

I must think

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1076 times before I step out of my house into the tentacles of Bangalore traffic! It’s horrendous! There’s no time to breathe. You’re always puffing and cussing, loosing your temper for every single insignificant thing. You think twice before making any plans. People prefer to sit at home rather than get out into this jungle!

I've battled snakes (almost) and lost my way amidst the numerous by lanes here. Only now I just can’t seem to battle this relentless traffic, just like everyone else in the city. I feel so powerless! Suddenly I hear a voice in my head- “Congratulations. You're not so special anymore.”

Sigh!

I think I’ve spent more time on the road waiting for the traffic to move than anywhere else. And the traffic lights are so slow! I might as well walk the entire way home. The traffic is worse than snail's pace as snails at least move. Here we’re just stuck giving ample amount of time and audience for beggars and street vendors selling cotton buds, mats, magazines etc. It feels like these people control the traffic lights at times so that they have some people to get some money from. Sometimes tiny children who are begging on the streets fall onto a person’s foot and pester her until she gives him some money. One such incident took place with me. A little boy sought the never-changing red light as an opportunity to pounce at my feet when I was in an auto and beg for money. So what am I supposed to do? I can't give the kid money, because he shouldn't be begging. He's young and bright and his eyes! They were light brown and they were dancing. He almost climbs into the auto. And mind you, this is the second time I've come across one of these little fellows in one day.

So... he starts tapping my leg. Little palms and he says- sundar pink chappals aunty. And I don't know what to do. He's enjoying the fact that I’m awkward. Very awkward. The people standing beside me on two wheelers were waiting for my reaction. His naughty smile gives that away. So I dig through my bag and give him an eclair and a couple of coins. But I don't want him to leave yet. I try to ask him his name. Ask him if he likes pink (?!) He won't stop calling me 'aunty'. He has the most beautiful eyes I’ve seen. The auto driver decides he's had enough and moves ahead. The boy comes towards the auto. But traffic moves, and I lose him. That was the first time in my life that I was glad to have been stuck at a signal. Things have changed now. I’ve begun to enjoy the traffic, the waiting, and the fuming faces of the people around me. Traffic is no woe no more.

Post Party Blues

The time is 11:30 a.m. on a Monday morning... just awakened from a deep deep slumber... My mind is still fuzzy.... the music from last night is still lingering around the contours of my hypothalamus... A big lazy yawn awakens my mind ... The post party blues are now descending upon my senses.

I had a fantastic weekend... Dance...Drama...Melodrama...Music...Mayhem filled my Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I hate Mondays... They give me the blues. Thank God I have my holidays or if I had coll I would have receded to the depths of my desk and fallen asleep with the lecturer’s lullaby.

The reasons for my post party depression:

Day 1
Friday: was my friend NG’s birthday party. And I guess you know what happens at parties (the above categories of dance, drama, melodrama, music and mayhem can be fitted in aptly here)
End result: lack of sleep, aching limbs due to flaying arms and legs but a completely happy and content me

Day 2
Saturday: went to the fest- Le Gala at National Law School. This college is somewhere on the out skirts of Bangalore, Nagarbavi to be precise. With droopy eyes I cheered my friend and college team along as they danced at the cultural fest only to be awakened again by the loud music blaring from Strawberry Fields. If you’re wondering what Strawberry Fields (SF) is, it is one of the most looked forward to rock shows in India. It was voted one of the best College rock fests by the Rock Street Journal website. Around 50 bands from around India (most of them from Bombay, Delhi and Chennai and of course Bangalore) descend onto the college grounds and perform to a whooping audience of over 6-7,000 people. And the entry is free!! Many bands such as Moksha, Thermal and a Quarter, Mother Jane and Zero have arisen from these fields- it is like the stepping stone to super-stardom.

This year the semi finals had quite a smaller crowd. I expected that the next day would have a bigger audience as it was the finals. 5 bands made it to the finals. So Saturday night ended with the sound of chords buzzing in my brain and a deep desire to get some sleep.

Day 3
Sunday: After a good night’s sleep and resting my fatigue filled body I journeyed to Strawberry Fields yet again last evening. Very few people lingered around. But as the sun set the music began to play and suddenly there was a huge crowd. The first band, Catalyst from Christ college performed, followed by the remaining 4 finalist. Soon around a few thousand people gathered. I preferred standing at the back and enjoy the show rather than being thrown about by rock aficionados waving their limbs around and head banging with sweat dripping all around them. I moved forward only to come back again as I saw that the mosh pit was in total chaos. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. So did I, except when the heavy metal bands came on stage and sang. Or did they even sing? All I could hear was noise and the vocalists’ mouth engulfing the microphone and screeching from the depths of his larynx. My mind was only able to figure out the beat of the drums. I don’t understand it. It = Heavy Metal- how can people even comprehend it. I prefer the more subtle form. Progressive, alternative, classic rock... not the trashy and heavy metal stuff. And to add to this noise was the chilly night. Cold gusts of wind, the piercing cold made all of us there huddle up in sweatshirts and jackets. There was a full moon as well. Finally the results were announced. ‘Slain’ came first and I believe they won copious amounts of money. And the runners up were ‘Amidst the Chaos’ from Mumbai. Christ College won the best college band.

I enjoyed listening to ‘Lounge Piranha’- one of the bands who performed here. They play the kinda music which I like to listen to and which I enjoy. There was Parveez, one of the band members playing the didgeridoo as well. 25 minutes of absolute bliss and contentment. This I could comprehend. But what followed them was Bhayanak Maut- the headlining act. Scary shit this was. True to their name- Bhayanak Maut! Other bands which have headlined at SF are Junkyard Groove (2006), was an awesome performance last year by them and also Pin Drop Violence sometime back.

Finally late into the night the show ended. Cold, muzzled, mangled bodies headed back to the city. Quite a show this one was. Brilliant stage setting and organization as well by this bunch of 500 twenty something law students. I headed home only to think I’ll be back next year as well.

Rootlessness

Well, I don't know where to start. I am sitting here and all around me my house of about nineteen years (I’ve lived here all my life!) is in a mess. I am moving houses. I am feeling scattered, slightly scared. I have just been living in a daze, sleeping too little and not thinking.

I begin to think this is fun but I want to shake myself up and figure out. I wish it was like school where after 7th std, you just go to 8th. I actually don't wish that.

I feel sad that whenever I settle down I suddenly pack up, tear all ties and leave. Again, I get bored of things easily, even places so I guess it's OK. But the people I have come to know and shared almost every single day of my life with will soon be untangled. Friends from nearby came and bid their goodbyes. Tears were shed. But memories were recollected. We sat together reminiscing about those days when we were kids playing silly little games, played hide and seek around the house, sighing when we looked at those corners and cupboards where we have locked ourselves up by mistake.

Sigh.

“Those were the days”.

Sigh again!

I know everybody here, every little space, every face, every shop, every house. If anybody asked me where Mr. Ranagnathan lived, house no. 42- I’d know. We played on these roads. Climbed trees, walls, parapets... we climbed into each others lives. But now I was moving... from north Bangalore to south Bangalore. I’m happy that it’s not another city or country altogether. But its 20 kms away- meaning new neighborhood, new friends... A whole new life.


This house where I know all the auto drivers and they know I have Psychology at 8:30 am and I have to be there or the stupid nun would shut the door. Hurry up I’d bawl. I need the 9AM attendance. I can take back change for five hundred bucks later from them. Where I can run to the city supermarket down the road and pick up maggi noodles when I’m hungry. Where I can find my way back perfectly even if a tad too tipsy at 11:30 pm. I'll now have to start over with my new house and of course from wherever the hell I am going to go in another 2 years as I’ll be graduating and moving homes again.

Sigh!

So finally we began moving to this new house. I’ll have to call it home soon. The major advantage with this new place was that it was a little away from the main road, thus sparing us of the traffic noise and honking cars and trucks and the college guys zipping up and down their bikes as I lived beside an engineering college and a girls hostel. Inside the house, it was like a serene little world. And just outside my balcony, there was a lot of greenery, trees, birds and horses as well that would keep me occupied through the day before I embarked upon making new acquaintances.

I began packing early morning. Looking around at the mountain of boxes all around I realised how much stuff I had accumulated in the 19 years. I stopped many times to look at my kindergarten drawings and 9th std biology record book. My shoe box with its treasure of letters written, received, school badges, tiny knick knacks. Moving is stressful business. My dad handled the packers, made sure they were doing their job well and made sure everything was loaded (and unloaded) properly into (from) the truck.

During lunch we literally pounced on the food as we were really hungry after the morning’s episode of packing and moving stuff. I had managed to miss breakfast, so I ate for two meals!
The packers left in the evening. Leaving me with a lot of stuff scattered all over the place. Boxes of books, CDs, odds and ends and general stuff I have no idea where to keep (which I am going to open later). The kitchen looks like a hurricane hit it with pots, pans, glasses, cutlery, cooking vessels all looking rather lost and out of place. Clothes are overflowing out of the cupboards and suitcases are still unopened (do I really have so much stuff?!).

Tintin, my dog spent a traumatic night in the verandah sending my mum and me very hurt looks from inside. He hates being displaced and it takes him a week or so to get adjusted to a new place. He went out sniffing a few times and looked suspiciously everywhere and then retreated into the warmth and safety of his kennel. He was so dazed. So were my parents and me. My li’l sister cried the entire journey from my old home to this new place. She cried her way to sleep.

I wandered around the place thinking that I should sort everything out. And then I took the easy way out and left everything as it was. Another day, I thought! What’s the hurry? I have my holidays now.

I listened to the mild buzz of the vehicles along the ring road and the sudden roar of an airplane (I live beside the airport) for a long time in the evening before finally falling asleep out of exhaustion, my limbs and back aching from the stress of the whole day. And it’s definitely going to take me some time to get used to the new house too.

And the noise. Definitely the noise... the sound of the planes!

I’ll have to call this my home now. Untangle and settle down... create new roots.

Mojos-Muzic-Mayhem

My holidays are on (semester break) and I was getting quite tiresome and irritable sitting and wallowing at home all the time. After a few pestering msgs and SOS calls to bring some life into my otherwise-not-so-boring-life, four of my friends decided to meet up and spend some quality time and do some much needed girl bonding.

We decided to meet at the Dubai Plaza beside the very famous Brigade Road in Bangalore and have lunch at ‘The Taste of Tibet’ where you can get some delicious momos. At 1:00 pm we decided to meet and as many of you know women, we meet up only at 2 (we have it in our DNA to be compulsively late!)
P.S. There’s also Bangalore traffic and the metro rail project on MG Road to be blamed.

Anyhoo... walking down the road we passed by Pecos. Where is Pecos you ask...? If you are a Bangalorean its complete blasphemy. The rest can be let off... if you are the types who likes dark, smoke-filled interiors with cat stevens or some odd Bob Marley crooning at the back and huge posters/murals of rock/jazz legends up your face, with a mug of beer and some food- I assure you this is the place to be. The chilly beef and chilly pork are great here. So are the tacos! Pecos is heaven for beer guzzlers. They only serve Kingfisher draught beer here I’m guessing. And you get a decent plate of popcorn (free!) with your beer. This place is for the unmannered and the undone. You can go guzzling and singing here.

Pecos has sort of a cult following, no wonder there was a motley crowd waiting outside. Suddenly the craving for some good music crawled into our systems. We decided to give the china men (momos) a run and head to Pecos. But we had to wait (cause of the aforementioned motley crowd) The hunger pangs began to paw their way to our brains! So we deiced to go to Mojos- the sister of Pecos which is just down the road.

Mojo’s is fairly large and has a decent seating- low lying tables and chairs and cushions on the floor type thingys. The India-Pakistan match was on, so if there’s a match you can come here and cheer Indian on as well.

The food is great too. The pork dishes - bacon tawa fry, the sausages, the pork tacos, anything actually is absolutely scrumptious! All the curry-dosa combos are good too. The menu is pretty extensive, but off all the choices I lavvee the grilled fish.

We ordered a plate of pork chilly to go along with our ghee rice combo. Yummmm is all that I can say. The prices in Mojo’s is a tad too expensive than Pecos though. Probably Mojos is for the more hip crowd am guessing. The music is almost the same here as Pecos.They play all kinds of rock here, but lean to a touch more popular taste than Pecos, but definitely not as poppish as Stones, which is the 3rd outlet in the "chain" ( which happens to be some people (NG’s) favourite hangout apparently...

So with the Doors playing in the background we were having quite a good time catching up with each others lives and clicking pictures.

Ho Ho Ho is a No No No

‘Tis the season to be jolly... Fa la la la la la laa laaa laaaa....

Winter seems to be setting in and the Christmasy spirit seems to be catching on (how I know you ask- I’ve caught a cold for starters)

Anyway I was reading the newspaper some days back and I happened to glance in the International section... and there I saw “Santa banned from saying Ho Ho Ho” – in Australia. I was like WTF?? What is going on in Down Under!!?

I mean it’s so bizarre for Santa to go “HA HA HA!” instead of “Ho Ho Ho!”

I read further and the article said that Australian Santa’s have been banned from going “Ho, ho, ho” this Christmas. The reason? Their “ho ho ho” might scare children and be derogatory to women. (huh??!)

It further went on to say that “Trainees from Westaff, which supplies hundreds of men in red suits to Australian shopping centers, were told the traditional phrase could scare children and be taken as derogatory to women.”

I thought children usually run towards Santa... from when did the opposite start taking place. I know that Australia is in the Southern Hemisphere and that when they have Christmas it’s bright and sunny instead off being snowy... but I didn’t know that their brains started functioning in the opposite direction as well.

In this case children should be allowed to watch TV, read books, and not venture outside... coz even the smallest thing can frighten and scare them... let alone Santa Claus. As far as I can remember or my forefathers for that matter Santa’s ‘Ho Ho Ho’ was never scary. And since when did Santa’s ‘Ho Ho Ho’ be derogatory to women??? I mean this is Santa that we were talking about here... why suck out the fun from fairy tales and fantasies from children. Let kids be kids and live in their imaginary world... they’ll soon outgrow it. And with women... am sure any woman in her right set of mind would not find it derogatory. C’mon it’s Santa Claus... our childhood hero who brought us loads and loads of presents. There should be some limit to political correctness!

Well the Australians justification for the ban is that the use of "ho, ho, ho" is too close to the American slang for prostitute. Gimme a break! I don’t children would even understand that. We are talking about little kids who do not understand that "ho, ho, ho" has any other connotation and nor should they.

Some people sure know how to spoil the fun. But this Christmas we shall see an unlikely revolutionary rising-
Santa is a rebel with a claus. Ho Ho Ho (oh sorry!!) Ha Ha Ha!!

Foot Fetish

I've always had this strange fascination for feet. Something I do when i meet someone for the first time is to check out their feet...After all shoes too, like clothes maketh a man (or woman). I don't remember how this fascination began. But probably since I've been in an all-girls environment through out my schooling and college life, I've been sighting a gazillion feet ever single day in a riot of colours and a variety of shapes, sizes and textures. I judge the person based on the footware they are wearing. If it matches their ensemble, if it suits the weather at the moment or their age and personality. I get very finicky as well when my feet get dirty. I'll do all that i can to save my feet/ shoes from gettin wet in a puddle, even if it requires me to walk on my hands.

I feel feet have character. Long toe nails, bright red glossy nail paint, stubby toes, strappy shoes, or whatever it maybe... all of this adds to the individuals persona. Another obsession I have with shoes is that they need to be neatly arranged in a row starting from the slippers to the closed shoes from bright to dark colours. On my recent trip to Goa my eyes received a treat as I saw so many slippers in numerous colours. My roommates in the hotel had a hard time putting up with my obsession as I always bugged them to arrange their footware at the door in a neat row. But ultimately i ended up doing it most of the time (though i must admit i did enjoy doing it) I know.. I sound a li'l crazy for finding joy in arranging slippers. I guess I should start a shoe shop or work outside temples where people leave their slippers and shoes before entering inside. I'll probably have a blast in arranging and admiring them.. or I'd probably become nauseas and suffocate because of the foul odour emitting from some shoes.

Fretty Feet : R and my feet :)

Fair n Lovely: notice the change in melanin colour

Tarnished Toes: S painted different colours on her toes in a drunkan stupor

GO GOAAAAAAAAAA!!! Happy Feet on the beaches of goa...

Pumps : on my birthday!